


golden hair and rain drops

by Theyoungertwin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hair Brushing, M/M, No Plot, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:20:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28458924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theyoungertwin/pseuds/Theyoungertwin
Summary: OneshotHarry realises in a moment of pure clarity just who Draco is, good and bad, but he can't quite bring himself to say that he doesn't love him, and he can't tell Draco either.Pure fluff between them, sudden breakthroughs for Harry, and Draco is not quite oblivious but pretends overwise,
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Kudos: 17





	golden hair and rain drops

**Author's Note:**

> This is shameless fluff because I can't post it on my main story, 'whisper your love into the void where I won't hear it' since it's from Harry's point of view, so if you want backstory, you can go read that! (bear in mind if you do though that this small part is about a month and a bit away from this moment in time)
> 
> So yeah, it's just prose basically of me being bored in my French class and building on Harry's personality in my mind, but I hope you enjoy, and please do leave a kudos if you enjoy it or like the style!

And that's when Harry realised, looking into the eyes of the boy he loved. _Everything_ about Draco was inherently bad. Draco was Inherently bad. His father was bad and the way he had been raised was bad. He was bad in the ways of love, how he would never chase it and bade it away like a torch with darkness, begging it not to go where he could not follow. He was bad because he had a quick wit and a sharp tongue that did not discern between friend or foe. He was vain and loved compliments, but could not stand it when they were spoken edged with love. He loved to be adored, craved it, _wanted_ it, but would not stand for false idols of romance and love under the guile of friendship. Draco was bad in the secrets he kept, the lies that he told, because Harry knew there were so many of them. He was bad in all these ways. He had never thought about it, not once, not even when his snarling tongue had cut him so deeply, not when he had reared his wings and head at him, not even when he had cursed Draco to die in a bathroom. But he thought of it now, when Draco was lying next to him, watching him with fascination and a stupid grin on his face. Draco was bad. But he was so good. His mother was good, barely, and she had taught him to love his friends, helped him when his father had left him to bleed. He was good because he dared no-one to get close enough to love him, because he loved them so much that they ought never to get hurt. He was good because he was fun and playful, but could always tell a serious moment apart and his tongue bought laughter and joy, despite the hurt that was left behind. He was good because his gentle heart had been barred by thorns, it was marred and ugly now, but it sought out the light and sneered at the darkness. He wanted to tell Draco all of this, share his adoration for the crevasses of his personality, but instead, he said to Draco:

"God, you're hair's bloody soft." Draco looked at him blandly with an odd smile on his face.

"Acute observation. Any particular reason?"

"Mm no, it just looks nice." Draco appeared to be pondering something.

"You can brush it for me, if you like." The first time he had brushed Draco's hair, Draco had actually fallen asleep on him, and they'd slept together like that on the window seat under about five blankets. That was back in fourth year, when they were fourteen.

"Wow, someone's in a good mood. Really?" He immediately hated himself for saying something that could change his mind. Draco pushed himself up gracefully and stretched, becoming lithe and desirable. He remained silent but moved so that he was sitting cross legged between Harry's knees, back to him. An ornate ivory comb appeared and Draco turned around and handed it to Harry.

"Want to?" Harry grinned at him and sat up, pressing his back against the stone wall of the window, still under quite a few blankets. Rain lashed against the panes, and there was peace. Draco's hair was silky beneath the teeth of the comb and there were barely any tangles for him to go through.

"You're just doing this because you like the feeling, aren't you?" Harry teased. Draco murmured something and pressed the back of his head into Harry's shoulder, allowing him to see into those deep grey eyes. Harry smiled at him. "Get up you lump, I can't do it if you're all slumped on me."

He didn't need to see Draco's face to know that he was rolling his eyes. They sat in more continued silence, the only sound being the comb through Draco's hair. Harry found his arm tiring after a while and let it rest, taking the comb away from Draco's hair and letting it fall to his side. The blankets rustled again as Draco slumped once more against Harry's chest with closed eyes. Harry didn't dare break the silence. He barely hot a chance to either, because within minutes, he to was asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I might actually do requests and stuff if you leave a comment below on what you want to see, so if there is something you had in mind, please do leave a comment!


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